Ice Storm

by David Meyer

  I nodded.

  "I don't know." He studied the walls. "As far as I can tell, every square inch of this building is already being used."

  "Then maybe it isn't next to us." My eyes drifted to the ground. "Maybe it's beneath us."

  Chapter 68

  Graham could no longer scream. His jaw opened. Stress lines appeared on his face. But no sounds passed through his blue lips.

  "In case you're interested, the temperature is now four degrees Celsius. That converts to roughly thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit." Holly checked her watch. "At this point, your body's core temperature is dangerously low. I figure you've got another thirty minutes before you reach the point of no return."

  Graham stood stock-still. His brain felt logy. Nearly twenty minutes had passed since water first touched his feet. At first, he'd tried to struggle, to free himself. But now, he could barely move his muscles.

  Holly hopped off the concrete platform. Then she drummed her fingers against the vat. "I'm a lucky girl. A few years ago, technology of this caliber was only a dream. Now, I'm surrounded by it."

  Tools banged against machinery. The sound echoed in the room.

  "Don't mind Rupert," Holly said. "He's just double-checking our equipment."

  Graham's teeth chattered.

  "You're probably wondering where this place came from. Well, every now and then, we'd hear strange noises. You know, like things settling into place. Other times we'd feel a random air current or smell a dusty odor. At first, we shrugged it off. We called it the Ghost of Kirby." She smiled at the memory. "But eventually, we got curious. So, Rupert pried up the floorboards. But all we found was concrete."

  Graham's body started to shake.

  "Well, the noises got louder. The air flowed faster and the odor became overwhelming. Finally, Rupert took a sledgehammer to the floor. And voilà." She waved her arms. "Heaven opened up to us."

  "Heaven?" Graham spat out the word. "More like hell."

  "It turns out this was originally supposed to be a basement. But the idea was abandoned during construction once it became clear Kirby wouldn't be a popular science hub. I guess it would've cost too much money to fill it in. So, the builders decided to cover it up instead. As far as I know, no one around here knows about it."

  "I don't care about that." Graham shook his head. "Let's say you're right. Let's say you can revive me someday. Doesn't it bother you that I don't want to be frozen?"

  Holly regarded him for a moment. "Do you know anything about Nazi scientific experiments?"

  Graham's eyes glassed over. His leathery skin shriveled up like a prune. "A little."

  "Well, the bulk of the cold weather experiments were led by a scientist named Sigmund Rascher."

  "Sounds like an asshole."

  "That's not fair. He wasn't some random torturer. He wanted to advance science. You see, Nazi pilots who'd been shot down over icy cold waters often suffered hypothermia. The Luftwaffe—that was the German Air Force—wanted to be able to warm them up again."

  Graham's consciousness started to fade away. He did everything in his power to concentrate on the conversation.

  "Rascher subjected three hundred individuals to extremely cold temperatures. Some were stripped naked and forced outside into freezing cold weather for up to fourteen hours at a time. Others—not unlike yourself—were immersed in tanks of ice water." She paced in front of the vat. "Rascher and his assistants meticulously recorded data from their experiments. They noted changes in body temperature and heart rate. They reported alterations in muscle response and urine. Afterward, they would try to warm up the subjects."

  "Sounds barbaric."

  "Oh, it was. But the science was sound. Until that time, most physicians suggested a gradual process of rewarming. But Rascher showed that immersion in hot liquids was more effective under certain circumstances." Holly winced. "Unfortunately, one hundred of his subjects died to prove that."

  Graham snorted. "The price of science right?"

  "I'm sure that's how he justified it," Holly said. "And he'd have a pretty good case to prove it. Our knowledge of how the human body reacts to freezing temperatures is primarily based on his work. You don't have to approve of his methods. But you can't argue with his results."

  "Those results have blood all over them."

  "Interesting you should mention that. There's an ongoing controversy over what to do with Rascher's data. Some of my colleagues want to pretend it doesn't exist. Others say we might as well use it." She eyed him with curiosity. "I'm guessing you belong in the former category."

  "Only because I have a conscience."

  "I disagree. If his data can save lives, it would be criminal not to use it."

  "Does any of this," Graham's voice became hollow, "have a point?"

  "Yes. The Nazi research on frozen subjects was achieved via unthinkable means. I'm sure you find my work just as distasteful. But someday it'll save millions of lives."

  "Ever heard of the expression 'fruit of the poisonous tree'?"

  Holly shook her head.

  "It means if the source is tainted, then anything gained from that source is tainted as well. To put it bluntly, nothing good comes from evil." Graham's chest expanded and contracted. "And this is as evil as it comes."

  "I'm sorry you feel that way."

  "Do you even hear yourself?" Graham licked his chapped lips. "You're no better than the Nazis. You're a murderer."

  "No, I'm not. I don't want you to die. I don't want anyone to die." She reached into the tank and ruffled his hair. "I want to put you into a cryonic state. Years will pass and you'll stay frozen here with the others. Technology will improve. Diseases will be cured. Eventually, I'll revive you. You'll be reborn in a manner of speaking."

  "Unless I never wake up."

  "Face it, Dutch. You're an old man. You don't have many years left. Even Cy is worried about you."

  "He is?"

  "Yesterday, he asked me some hypothetical questions about a person dying of old age. It was obvious he was talking about you." Her eyes shone brightly. "Don't you see? You don't have to die. Cryopreservation can keep you alive while scientists figure out how to cure the problems associated with being elderly."

  Her words resonated deep in Graham's heart. She had a point. But he wasn't ready for cryopreservation, not yet. "Shouldn't this be my decision?"

  "Unfortunately, it's not that simple. I can't just let you go."

  He shivered. "Then you might as well kill me. Because if I ever wake up, I'm strangling the life out of you."

  "You won't get the chance. I have big plans for you. How do you like the idea of spending your new life as my experimental subject?" She gave him a teasing look. "That's not such a bad fate, is it?"

  Graham dipped his head. Most people could only go so far. The human conscious could only take so much. Evil, by and large, had its limits.

  However, Holly was a different sort of evil. She didn't want to hurt him. And she wasn't particularly interested in scaring him. Instead, in her own sick way she was trying to help him, to extend his life. She truly thought she was doing the right thing. And that made her more dangerous than even the most deranged psychopath.

  Graham lost all feeling in his body. His voice started to slur. "Please. I don't want this. Not now."

  "Just relax. Close your eyes. Go to sleep." Holly smiled. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you from now on."

  Chapter 69

  "It's a hidden panel," Jenner twisted his beam, tracing the edges of the wooden slats. "Pretty impressive bit of craftsmanship actually. It blends right into the floor."

  Indeed, the slats looked perfectly normal. But on closer inspection, I noticed a slight separation between them and the rest of the wood.

  "A hidden panel." Trotter exhaled. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

  I held out my arm, blocking his path. "Hang on a second."

  He glared at me. "Pete's down there. I can feel it."

  "Listen—”

 
"It's the only thing that makes sense," he continued. "Don't you see? This is why no one knew about him. He's been underground all of this time."

  "We can't rush into this. If he's down there—and that's a big if—then someone put him down there."

  "You're talking about the Whitlows."

  "That's the most likely scenario."

  "I don't care." Trotter started forward again.

  Again, I blocked his path.

  His voice turned icy. "Get out of my way, Cy."

  "Something's not right."

  "What do you mean?"

  I waved at the empty table. "You saw Beverly. She was out, unconscious. There's no way she went anywhere without help."

  Trotter frowned.

  "There was no reason for Dutch to move her. And even if he did, he wouldn't have closed the panel behind him." I shook my head. "No, something else happened here."

  "Agreed." Trotter slammed his fist into his palm. "So, let's get down there before it's too late."

  I hesitated for a moment. Then I brushed my hand over the panel. My fingers touched a metal ring. I glanced at Trotter and Jenner. Raised my finger to my lips.

  They nodded.

  I pulled the ring. The panel lifted noiselessly into the air. A soft breeze wafted over me. My ears detected banging noises as well as the hum of working machinery.

  I removed Roy's pistol from my belt and glanced into a hole. It looked to be about twenty feet deep with a ladder running down one side. At the bottom, harsh halogen light illuminated a concrete floor.

  "I'll go first," I whispered. "Aaron, you follow me. Dan, you stay here. Wait for Pat."

  Trotter shook his head. "I'm going with you."

  I studied him for a moment. His arms trembled. His hands quivered. I didn't like the idea of him having my back. But I knew he wouldn't stay behind either.

  "Okay," I mouthed. "You bring up the rear."

  I swung my legs into the hole. Quietly, I placed my boots on a rung.

  The humming and banging noises grew louder as I descended the ladder. I kept my gaze locked on the ground. I didn't see anyone. But I did notice a section of wall jutting out into the room. I stepped off the ladder and positioned myself behind it.

  A horrible, wrenching scream filled the air.

  My blood froze.

  Hold on, Dutch. Just hold on a little longer.

  Chapter 70

  The Sno-Cat sped up. It flew over several small snow banks, landing with a jolt each time. Roy Savala didn't care. He just kept his foot pressed to the pedal and his eyes locked on the landscape.

  For the thousandth time, a wave of fear swept over him. He didn't mind dying. It was a part of life. But he couldn't die yet. First, he needed to complete his life's work. He needed to enter the Ice Pyramid. He needed to explore it, to understand it, to reveal it to the world.

  He needed to shift the paradigm.

  An image popped into his brain. He saw Ben's eyes—dead and unblinking—staring at him. He tried to ignore them, to excise them from his mind. But it didn't work. His stomach started to hurt. How had everything gone so wrong?

  It came out of nowhere, a lone object in a desert of snow and ice. Roy's insides turned to jelly. He stomped on the brakes. Twisted the wheel. But he was too late.

  The vehicle crashed into the Ice Pyramid. Roy slammed into the steering wheel. His head hit something hard and he slumped back into his seat.

  He wheezed for air. His ribs had already been hurting from the fight with Reed. Now, they felt broken. He took a few seconds to check the rest of his body. Painful lumps sprouted out from his face. Blood poured from a large cut on his forehead.

  Roy opened his door. Gingerly, he stepped out of the vehicle. His back ached. His left knee stung every time he put weight on it. He took a few practice steps and nearly passed out. His knee felt like it'd been twisted into a knot.

  Roy felt his forehead. The blood was no longer flowing but it still caked much of his face. He knew he needed medical attention. But that would have to wait.

  He shut the door. The snow eased off just a bit. But the wind picked up its pace, slamming into him with daunting force.

  He cocked his head. He heard heavy winds. And there was something else too.

  A loud purring noise burst through the blustery weather. Roy rotated his head. But he couldn't determine its point of origin.

  The purring noise ceased. Wind and blowing snow filled the void.

  He relaxed as he caught sight of a second Sno-Cat. Davis and Zoey sat inside it. They'd been following him ever since he'd fled Kirby.

  A rushing noise pierced the air. It sounded like water tumbling down a gigantic waterfall. His nerves stood on end. Slowly, he lifted his chin. His jaw dropped.

  For months, the Ice Pyramid had fought him. It had stubbornly resisted all of his efforts to shed light on its secrets. It had been immensely frustrating. At times, he'd even considered giving up on it.

  The queasy feeling in his stomach subsided. Feelings of destiny formed within him as he stared at the slight gap. The west side of the pyramid wasn't a typical wall. It was a massive gate. He could scarcely believe it. It was almost as if the Ice Pyramid knew of his presence, of his efforts to save it.

  Ignoring the dizzy feeling in his head, Roy hobbled forward. He felt strong, confident. His fear vanished. Everything was going to be okay. Nothing could stop him now.

  Nothing could keep him from his destiny.

  Chapter 71

  "Time's almost up." Holly's voice sounded strangely sweet. "Since you're obviously not going to fall asleep like I suggested, you might as well know you've got about five minutes before the process is complete."

  Graham shuddered.

  I glanced into the room. I was amazed at the sheer amount of stuff in it. I saw tables covered with flickering monitors. Large pieces of machinery. Strange containers with brass plates mounted on their surfaces.

  A large circular structure sat against the opposite wall. It looked like an above ground swimming pool. A concrete platform was positioned directly behind it. It rose six feet off the ground and appeared to be some kind of observation area.

  A long table rested on the platform. Several additional monitors sat on it. Cables connected them to the vat. Other tables and desks were situated around the center table. Instruments and notebooks were piled high on them.

  My eyes flew to the giant vat. It was made from some kind of thick transparent material. It blurred my vision but I could still see Graham through it. He was naked and shivering. His skin looked blue. His one good eye, from what I could tell, was glazed over.

  Holly stood next to one of the computers. Her eyes studied the monitor. Rupert knelt near one of the cylindrical containers. He seemed to be working on it.

  As quietly as possible, I extracted my pistol.

  "Pete?" Trotter jumped off the ladder. He dashed into the room and skidded to a halt in front of one of the containers. He studied its brass plate. Then he pounded on the container. "Pete? Are you in there?"

  Holly's eyes widened.

  Rupert spun around. He rose to his feet, wrench still in hand.

  So much for surprise.

  I lifted my pistol and pointed it at Holly. "You okay, Dutch?"

  "I'm …" He swallowed. "I'm fuckin' freezing."

  "Warm him up." I aimed at Holly's forehead. "Now."

  She recovered quickly. "I need you to trust me."

  My finger tightened around the trigger.

  "I'm not a killer, Cy. I think you know that."

  "Then what the hell are you doing to him?"

  "I'm preserving his life."

  "You're insane."

  "He's old, brittle. He won't last forever, not in this condition. You know that. That's why you asked me those questions about cryonics." Her eyes took on a strange sort of warmth. "But I can extend his life. I can make sure he lives to see the distant future. I've already lowered his body temperature. His breathing, heart rate, and metabolism have slowe
d to a crawl. Just let me complete the process and load him into one of my cryocontainers. Someday, when old age is finally cured, I'll revive him."

  "Unless you can't."

  "I can. I just need time to figure it out."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trotter sink to his knees. Tentatively, he lifted his hand to a cryocontainer. His fingers touched its polished surface. His shoulders started to quiver. Sobbing noises escaped his throat.

  I twisted my head slightly. Beverly lay on one of the tables. She looked unconscious. Jenner was sneaking to her side. I quickly looked away, hoping Holly hadn't seen him.

  I nodded at Trotter's cryocontainer. "Who's in that one?"

  "Pete Cook," she replied. "He used to work here."

  "Why?" Trotter turned toward her. His eyes were red and puffy. "Why him?"

  "We didn't have a choice. Once he found his way down here, he threatened to expose everything. We couldn't let him leave." Holly studied Trotter's visage. "You knew him, didn't you?"

  Trotter wiped his face on his sleeve.

  "You're the one he called," she said.

  "That's right."

  She glared at Rupert. "This is your fault."

  "How is it my fault?" Rupert retorted. "You're the one who dropped the needle."

  Her eyes softened as she swiveled back to Trotter. "We were going to inject him with a drug, something to keep him calm and docile during the process. But he escaped."

  Trotter stood up. His face was bright red.

  "Look, I know you're angry with us," Holly continued. "And I don't blame you. But Pete's not dead. He's in suspended animation. Someday I'll revive him along with Dutch and Jim."

  I glanced at her in surprise. "Jim is down here too?"

  She pursed her lips.

  I turned toward Graham. He was no longer moving. "Reverse whatever you did to him. And do it now."

  "I can't."

  "Do it." I thrust the pistol in her direction. "Or I swear to God I'll kill you."

  "I don't want to die," she said. "But like you, I'm not afraid of it either."

  "Maybe you don't fear death." I twisted the gun toward Rupert. "But I doubt you want to go on without your husband."